You are gone. But qartulad , you still exist in every declension of my memory. In the wine-dark evenings. In the toast to the dead that comes before the toast to the living. In the way I cross myself passing a church, even though I stopped believing.
Dear ex — I don’t want you back. But I want you to know: I finally understand what you meant when you said, "ქართულად ლაპარაკი გული მტკივა" — speaking Georgian makes my heart hurt.
— Not really goodbye. Just qartulad . Would you like a Georgian translation of the full post, or a shorter version for social media? dear ex qartulad
Here’s a short, emotional blog post titled — written in English but infused with Georgian phrasing and sentiment. Dear Ex, qartulad I never thought I’d write to you again. But tonight, Tbilisi is wrapped in that familiar fog, and the lights on Mtatsminda blink like unspoken words. So here I am — speaking to you qartulad .
Not in English, where feelings fit neatly into boxes. Not in the language we used to order coffee or argue about rent. But in Georgian — raw, ancient, stubborn — where love is not just love but sikvaruli , a word that bends with suffixes like a vine heavy with grapes. Where “I miss you” is not direct, but circled through verbs and cases, like a prayer you learn by heart without understanding. You are gone
So I’m writing this letter in the language you spoke in your sleep. The language your grandmother used when she cursed and blessed in the same breath. The language that holds three words for “morning” depending on how light touches the mountains.
ნახვამდის, ჩემო კარგო. Until I see you again, my good one. In the toast to the dead that comes
I learned the words. But I never learned how to say goodbye in Georgian without it sounding like a door closing in a poem. Maybe that’s because there is no easy goodbye here. Just ნახვამდის — “until I see you again” — which is hope disguised as politeness.